After the storm
by sarascofield72
Summary: An altered fic. S1 Ep 8. Michael and Sara just after the riot. What the conversation should have been.


A/N. I don't have time to write long fics but couldn't get this one out of my head. This is an altered fic that occurs in Ep 8 just after the riot when Michael goes to see Sara in the infirmary. It was an all too brief scene if you ask me (both sitting across from each other in the infirmary) and it should have gone something like this. By the way , I am sending out birthday greetings to wrldpossibility today!

"After what you went through in the riot, I thought you would have taken a day off"

There was concern in his voice. She could feel his gaze on her but she couldn't quite return it.

Not after yesterday. Not after the terrifying hours spent in those vents with him when they had feared for their lives. He had kept her safe, risking his own life to do so. How could she tell him how grateful she was? He had saved her from certain horror. How could she tell him about her own fears last night after everything happened. She had spent the time scouring the list of injured and dead, fearing that his name would appear on the list. Fearing that maybe they had made a mistake and omitted him from the list.

She was brought back to the present by his voice:

"Hey." He rested his hand on her shaking one as she tried unsuccessfully to administer his shot. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Then he realized that she was silently crying.

"What's wrong?" he asked as he pulled his chair up closer to her and took the syringe from her. After injecting himself with insulin, he took her hand in both of his and she looked up at him.

"Michael. I thought that...I thought that something had happened to you . That maybe they had shot you when I left." She started sobbing more and he reached for her elbow. He kind of brushed his thumb there. She didn't notice that he had pulled his chair all the way up until their knees were almost touching as they faced each other. What she did notice was that she had no control over her next action. She practically threw herself into him until his chair almost fell back. He was able to steady it as she crawled into his lap, put her arms around his neck and sobbed louder. He held her tighter, rubbing her arms, pulling back her hair, telling her that he was okay.

"I'm okay".

She buried her face into his shoulder some more and continued to shake and cry.

Michael looked over Sara's head toward the door nervously. Pretty soon the guard would be wondering what was going on. He had been in there for what seemed like hours. He didn't want it to end, this moment where he found himself comforting her, but he also didn't want them to get caught.

As her sobs quieted she stayed in that position but relaxed more. She eventually stopped crying and just sat there, sideways, on his lap, looking down as she played with his fingers.

"Why did you do it?" she asked softly.

"Do what?"

"I know you said I needed help and you came to find me...but...Michael, you could have been killed."

"I'm here." he reassured her.

"I know things are difficult for you in here...I just wondered if maybe you would have been fine if they did shoot you , you know?"

Rising suddenly and standing her up gently he looked at her upturned face now. She was staring back at him with a challenging expression.

 _She thinks I have a death wish._

"You have no idea , do you?" he asked as his hand touched her jaw.

"No idea about w-" she didn't complete the sentence. She didn't complete it because he was kissing her on the mouth . And she was kissing him back...at first hesitantly but then very, very deeply. For at least a minute. Or two.

She was coming up for air now. He smiled at her as he pulled away, his hand lingering where he had placed it behind her neck. Caressing her there.

Sara was stunned. Then...

"Michael this can't happen."

"I think you're beautiful" he whispered under his breath as he stepped back from her.

He cleared his throat and said it again. Louder and firmly .

"I think you're beautiful, Sara"

 _God , what was happening?_

"Scofield done in here , doc?" the voice sliced the awkwardness like a knife.

"Um yeah, Carl. Of course." She nervously looked at Michael as he was grabbed by the elbow and shackled to go back to his cell. He never took his eyes off of her as he was pulled away..

Turning on her heels, she walked over to her desk and sat while saying to the guard. "Same time tomorrow for Mr. Scofield , okay?"

"Yes ma'am."


End file.
